


Singin' in the rain

by ferggirl



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferggirl/pseuds/ferggirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galavant figures out what will make Richard stop whining during a rainstorm. A between the seasons outtake of boys on pirate ships being (somewhat one-sided) second-best buddies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singin' in the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic/gifts).



It was fucking raining.

Of course it was raining. Galavant wasn’t sure why he’d ever expected anything else on this miserable babysitting voyage from the depths of Hades itself. They were stuck on deck, since their cabin was too full of loot and crates of food supplies and extra pillows and salty snacks for the king, and the bunk room was flooded from the big waves that kept washing over the deck. Izzy probably would have done something smart and finagled one of her petticoats into an awning and they’d have kissed under the pitter patter of the little raindrops and then he would have run a hand through her hair and she would smile and he would lean even closer…

Something jolted him in the side and he was pulled out of the very pleasant daydream and back to his cold, wet reality.

It was a sharp elbow, and it came from his cabin-mate.

Who was most definitely  _not_ Izzy.

The bedraggled King Richard might not be the worst person ever (obviously that title was reserved for his ex-true love Madalena) but he was really, really whiny.

Galavant hadn’t been able to get a single complaint of his own in between the king’s constant litany of “wah I miss Gareth” and “wah my queen is so mean” and “wah my shoes are wet” and “wah my brother is a big jerk” and quite honestly he was used to being the complainer in the group.

Well, recently at least.

Another gust of wind ruffled the waves around them and Galavant pulled the line he’d been handed harder. This storm had to end soon. It felt like the rain was an endless reminder of his heart’s pain at being separated from his beloved Izzy, who he’d only really gotten to kiss the one time before he was so unceremoniously dragged off and dumped in a pirate rowboat.

“I want to go inside. I didn’t even get to bring my favorite suit of armor,” the king sniffled.

Galavant stopped pulling for a moment. There was a cold rivulet of water running out of his soaked hair and down his neck. He shook his head, vainly hoping to buy a few minutes in which his hair did not soak him to his smalls, and then met the king’s pouty eyes.

“You are alive, which is more than I can say for sure about several other people who are very dear to me. And a suit of armor in a rainstorm would be abominably loud.”

There was probably another reason you shouldn’t wear armor in the rain, but did he look like Sid? It had been years since he was a squire and he really hadn’t paid very close attention because he’d been so obviously bound for knighthood that he had just made the other squires do the hard stuff like polishing and remembering rules.

No, he had the chiseled jaw and clear, focused eyes of a romantic hero. Izzy had known that. That’s why she came to find him, all those… days ago. Days? Surely weeks. How long HAD that training montage gone on for?

The king sniffled. Loudly. Sniffling was so distracting when you were trying to put together your heroic deeds and determine just how long you have known your TRUE true love.

“Look, I know there’s a lot to take in right now. But let’s just get through this and—”

“Sing the song, Galavant.” He was all sodden velvet and big hopeful eyes and sniffling. “It’s the only thing that could possibly make me feel better.”

Galavant blinked. Then he shrugged. If that would make it stop…

******

“ _We’re off on a secret mission_ …”

Richard scowled. “No, not that song. That song is much better with copious quantities of wine, which just makes me miss the tavern and that makes me miss the castle and that reminds me of my stupid brother and my stupid mean wife and I’m worried about Gareth and then I just want to cry but the rain means you couldn’t even tell so I—”

His handsome boatmate put a handsome gloved hand over his mouth. “Well, what song then?”

Really, he didn’t look nearly as bedraggled as Richard felt. It was so unfair. How was he supposed to be a romantic hero and tell Madalena what he wanted her to do and beat his brother and make the kingdom love and fear him without a nice chiseled jawline and rakishly mussed hair.

He unobtrusively ran his hands through his own hair, hoping for a bit of muss, but just managed to drip more water into his hose. His weenie must be tiny, he was so cold.

“Oh come on, you know the one. My jester was always singing it.” He hummed a few bars hopefully. “Da da da da da daaaaaaaa, da da da da da daaaaaaa, da da da da da da da Gaaaaalavant?”

Galavant straightened and smiled a bit, gazing off into the distance as if thinking deeply. Richard mimicked his movements and Galavant, distracted, narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you mocking me?”

“How dare you!” Richard had decided right away on this trip that he was going to try and follow Gareth’s mantra that the best defense is to punch a guy’s skull in. Which, since he probably couldn’t punch anyone’s actual skull in nor would he wish to (eww, ewwww think about all of that blood), basically meant to attack. With words. Or a nice smile! He smiled as he continued. “I am your king, you cannot talk to me that way.”

Galavant did not look impressed. He honestly looked a bit tired. At least he was pulling on that rope thing again. It had seemed important when the angry pirate man had handed it to him.

“Just sing the sooooong?”

“Fine.”

“Oh, goodie!” Richard bounced a bit until he realized it was only making him colder. They were going to be buddies. Not best friends like him and Gareth, of course, only someone who’s known you since childhood and protected you your whole life and convinced you to get your ear pierced when you were 12 and wasn’t even that mad when you told him you had to kiss just in case you didn’t know how to do it right. But Galavant would be his buddy. And they would sing, and be popular, and everyone would think he was a wonderful king, and Gareth would be happy, and – oh, and the song was starting.

“ _Way back in days of old…_ ”

******

A week later, Galavant had lost track of how many times he’d had to sing the damn song. At first the pirates encouraged him.

“Will it shut ‘im up?” the first mate asked when Richard had entreated him for the fourth time during dinner. Galavant nodded. Richard bounced. The pirates endured.

Until they didn’t.

“My tummy hurts, Galavant. Sing the song?”

“It’s so hot, Galavant. Sing the song?”

“That breakfast was so yummy I almost didn’t notice the weevils. Sing the song!”

And on and on and on.

It was driving them all mad.

Sid would have said something mildly judgmental about traumatized simpletons and Izzy would have smiled her sweet smile and slipped out of her dress and – wait, what had he been thinking of?

They got becalmed for four days and every time it occurred to the king to be bored, someone had to sing the song. On a good day (Tuesday) he went around the crew and asked it of different people each time. On a bad day (Wednesday) he complained that people on this ship were meanies and made Galavant sing it alone.

Then the wind picked up and the pirate crew seemed a bit smaller than he remembered but he couldn’t put his finger on why. The sun had peeked back through the alabaster clouds that reminded him of – no, wait, that was Madalena who was pale, Izzy was different and wonderful and had told him she’d smack him if he called her exotic so he was going to stick with beautiful. He needed new metaphors.

They were finally underway with blue skies and a fair wind billowing the sails. Of course, Richard was nervous about arriving at his old home, and bored with ship life, and hungry, and tired, and lonely. He made him sing the song seven more times before the pirate captain stood up and interrupted.

There followed a rousing sea shanty full of vim and vigour and hope and honestly some pretty pointed references. By the end of it Galavant’s leaden heart was lifted, soaring again with the joy of anticipation, his TRUE true love’s voice ringing in his ears as if she were standing right beside him. Surely, over this next arbitrarily short time-period he would encounter many delays and dangers before ultimately finding her again in the penultimate episode for a second kiss that was followed by some new terror he must vanquish to be with her forever!

******

Richard liked this new ditty. It was funny, it reminded him of Gareth and of the nights when their nurse had –

Oh, what was Galavant doing? Look how his chin was tilted up just enough that his jawline was squared off. And the wind ruffled his hair, and he was doing that pose with the one jaunty arm on his hip.

Richard arranged himself next to his second best buddy. His hair kept getting in his eyes, but he was pretty sure that they both looked damn heroic. Gareth would be so impressed. Madalena would be so sorry if she could see him now.

Then the ship took a hard turn and he tumbled off balance and took Galavant down with him and they wound up in a tangle of arms and legs and cheek to cheek staring out at the ocean.

“Get. Off. Me.” Ha. Galavant sounded all funny and squished! They should play this game more. Richard squinted into the sunlight, perfectly comfortable.

“Oooh, look. It’s the castle!” He turned Galavant’s chin. “My mummy and daddy live there! And Gareth and I used to play on that beach and sometimes he would swim while I collected seashells and I would watch his clothes. Sometimes I would hide his clothes and boy would he be mad and his weenie would bounce around and… oof.” he was unceremoniously shoved to the side.

“We’ve arrived at last? Izzy, I’m coming for you. Not that you can’t save yourself, but I do like to show off and prove my love in dramatic unnecessary ways.” Galavant shook his head and strode off to talk to the pirates, and Richard was left sitting on the top deck. Alone.

Maybe he should talk about weenies less. After all Galavant was only his _second_ best buddy. 


End file.
